Prove It
by danang1970
Summary: Sometimes, Face should just keep his big mouth shut. Murdock can be dangerous when he thinks he has something to prove. SLASH
1. Chapter 1

WARNING: This story is SLASH and heavily features a (non-established) male/male, homosexual, man-loving relationship. If you do not like this, stop reading now. Thanks!

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><p>As usual, the A-Team had triumphed over the Bad Guys once again. And as usual, they were celebrating this victory with drinks at their residence <em>du jour<em>. As usual the third, Face was half-heartedly griping about the lack of feminine company and Hannibal was ignoring him. They just couldn't risk it, not in a town this small. Maybe somewhere bigger, with a population greater than 480, comprised of people from more than one family tree (or at least a tree with a few more branches), but here, they had to keep a low profile.

As low a profile as possible while running six thugs out of town with automatic rifles and a modified tank, of course. It was all about picking your battles.

So in spite of Face's usual grumblings about it being a sausage fest and BA's equally-typical complaints about having to deal with a drunk Murdock, the four of them celebrated this latest success by getting summarily toasted together.

Conversation and hard spirits flowed easily, as they tend to when people have known each other for nearly a decade and can say just about anything to each other. BA protested when Murdock tried to start a game of Truth Or Dare, but for all their volume, his shouts had no real bite. All of them floated merrily down the Rivers Jack, Bud and Vladko (the nostril-singeing cousin of vodka that Face had been persuaded to buy at the town's only liquor store) until well into the night. There may or may not have been singing at some point. BA and Hannibal would later deny it. Face and Murdock would see the glares on their larger teammates' faces and judiciously offer no comment.

Somewhere along the line, as often happens, the conversation turned salacious. Some might even say lewd. BA just groaned "Here we go again," into his glass. Leave Face and Hannibal (who was just as bad after a few drinks, no matter what he said) alone for a few minutes and they'd invariably end up talking smut like teenagers in a locker room.

"Seriously, it was so gross but it was almost magical," Face was saying over Hannibal's chuckles and the airplane sounds Murdock was making every time he spooned his Vladko lime and soda into his mouth (as was his custom). "It looked like… Okay you know the beard Brad Pitt grew after he started hanging out with Angelina Jolie?"

BA did not, because he didn't read fruity magazines at the salon while getting his foils done, but Hannibal apparently did because the old man nearly choked on his drink with a resurgence of uncontrollable laughter.

"Face, that's horrible," Hannibal coughed through tears.

"It's true!" insisted the blond. "I couldn't look away. It was like an enchanted forest."

"Would've been like kissing ZZ Top," observed Murdock, which sent Face and Hannibal into conniptions.

BA was mildly surprised – Crazy didn't often join in on the Terrible Two's cruder discussions. He wasn't sure why and didn't really want to think much about it. BA personally didn't tend to contribute because as much as he loved the guys and knew they were alright, these conversations could get a bit too close to what he'd call disrespectful. If BA was intimate with a woman, then he'd show her respect before, during and after the event. Even if he didn't know her name.

"ZZ Top," Face repeated, giggling and hiccupping slightly. He chewed on the curly straw he'd appropriated from somewhere. "You ever had a ZZ Top, Murdock? A Grizzly Adams?" He snorted at his own wit. "I'm not gonna bother asking Hannibal because he came into fruition in the 60s and we all know what that means."

Face was, mercifully, cut off from elaborating by Hannibal. "The 60s? How old do you think I am, Lieutenant?"

The conman appeared to consider it, putting a finger to his chin thoughtfully (missing the first two tries and finally getting there on the third). "Older than Jesus?" he answered innocently.

Even BA had to laugh at that.

"Old enough to put you over my knee, brat," growled Hannibal, but as with BA's threats to Murdock earlier, there was no menace to it.

"Sexy," Murdock drawled, making the obvious joke. "Can I watch?"

"Why Murdock, you kinky devil," exclaimed Face, putting one hand on his cheek like a scandalised damsel (he didn't miss this time, but he did slap himself harder than he would have if sober). "I had no idea!" His already-glassy eyes brightened as he had a thought. "Hey, what ARE you into, Murdock?" He pointed at the pilot with a lazy finger.

"Why?" asked Murdock, sucking on his spoon. "You making a list of things you haven't tried?"

Hannibal laughed and punched Face in the arm. Face nearly toppled off his chair. "He got you, Face."

The Lieutenant righted himself, more or less. "No, shush," he admonished Hannibal, which would never usually be tolerated but there were no ranks among Bros. "Murdock never joins in."

"Neither does BA," Murdock pointed out.

"Yeah, but." All eyes swivelled to BA. "He's scarier than you."

BA nodded solemnly. "Don't you forget it."

"I won't. Which is why I'm asking _Murdock_!" Face pointed to the pilot again, triumphantly. "Come on, buddy," he whined. "I've heard all of Hannibal's stories about women he met during the civil war." BA barked a laugh. "I'm sick of them. I want new ones. Come on, you never share. Pretty please?"

"I don't think I want to know what kind of stories Murdock has," commented Hannibal. BA clinked glasses with him in agreement.

"Is it because you haven't gotten laid in a while?" Face continued blithely. Murdock choked a little on his latest spoonful. "It's okay, we're all bros here." He made a broad sweep with his arm to indicate the Sharing Circle. "Oh. OH! I know what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna- We can go on a double date! Next time I meet a girl, I'll say, 'Do you have a hot friend or sister?' and she can bring her along and we can both get laid!"

"Can't imagine why I don't let you make all the plans, kid," Hannibal remarked, trying to figure out how to drink his scotch upside down to get rid of these meddlesome hiccups.

"I don't need you to get me laid, Face," was Murdock's amused reply. "Thanks though."

"No, don't be a spoilsport!" Face was fixated now. "Come on, it'll be fun. You never get laid."

Murdock's mouth dropped open. The spoon fell out. "Wha… Yes I do!" The protesting way he said it didn't help his case very much.

"No you don't," retorted Face childishly. "I never see it."

"What, you want me to do it in front of you?"

BA guffawed. "I can picture that. Faceman standing in the corner, taking notes."

"Holding up scorecards," agreed Hannibal.

"Extra points for a good dismount."

The two laughed loudly and clinked glasses again.

Face was looking petulant. He hated it when everyone ganged up on him. "No, you know what I mean." He turned back to Murdock. "I never see you pick up anyone, or go on dates. Even BA goes on dates!"

BA looked up. "Hey! Remember, I'm scarier than him."

"Are you shy?" Face asked Murdock, who looked like he was deciding whether or not to start getting offended. "Is it the crazy thing – do girls not like that? Oh! Is it your meds? Because, you know, I can get some pills to help with that if it's ever a probluuuurk."

The "uuuurk" wasn't part of Face's planned speech, but rather the result of Murdock standing up, grabbing the blond by his collar and hauling him bodily out of his chair. Without pausing or saying a word, Murdock continued out of the living room and down the hallway towards the bedrooms, dragging a startled Lieutenant behind him.

Hannibal and BA roared with laughter. "You're in for it now, Lieutenant," called Hannibal as the two younger men disappeared down the corridor.

"He's gonna beat your ass!" agreed BA.

Murdock's bedroom door slammed shut.

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><p>Face was pushed onto the bed so hard that he bounced. Murdock locked his door and kicked off his shoes swiftly, advancing for the bed with a strange look in his eyes.<p>

Face sat up, trying to scramble backwards. "Hey man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to maaah."

Yet again, the (usually) smooth-talking blond's words were cut off by Murdock. The pilot had grabbed the flailing conman's ankle and tugged sharply, halting Face's crabwalk towards the headboard. Face unbalanced, falling onto his back once more. Before he could sit up, Murdock was on top of him, straddling his hips and pinning Face's hands above his head.

Face had barely registered how strange yet erotic the position was when Murdock practically smothered him with a brutal kiss.

Face wasn't one to be easily dominated. It was all about the fight, the chase, the catch. But oh, how he'd secretly longed to find someone who could honestly catch _him_. Someone strong and powerful he could fight against with all his might and still be pinned beneath. Face had the fleeting thought that maybe Murdock _could_ read minds, as he'd claimed to a few months ago during a Uri Gellar phase, before all but the most primal parts of his brain shut down under the bruising grip on his wrists and wet heat of Murdock's tongue in his mouth.

After all, Face was a hedonist at heart (and on his sleeve). He didn't care where pleasure was coming from, even if it was as unexpected a source as his mentally-quirky pilot.

One of Murdock's hands released Face's wrists, rubbing up and down his side briefly before fisting in his hair and tugging Face's head back. The angle was awkward, but exposed the curve of Face's neck. The conman arched into Murdock as the hand left his hair, groaning as his friend interspersed the kiss with nips to Face's lips and jawline. Every time Face thought he was getting into the rhythm of the kiss, Murdock would change it or switch tactics. He licked a hot, slow stripe up Face's throat. Kissed him for a few seconds then bit almost viciously at the junction of Face's neck and shoulder. Nibbled his ear. Peppered his jaw with kisses. Sucked on his tongue. Slow and fast, teasing and taking, Face couldn't keep up with what Murdock was doing. As Murdock leaned back slightly to pull off Face's t-shirt, the conman decided to just go with it.

As if sensing this change in attitude (_Mindreader!_ thought Face accusingly), Murdock relaxed his one-handed grip on Face's wrists. Raising himself off the other man just enough to allow him to move, he pushed firmly on Face's shoulders, urging him to scoot back towards the headboard.

Murdock leaned around him, leaving the conman eye to eye with the Spongebob Squarepants on the front of his t-shirt. There was a tug on Face's left wrist and he craned his neck to see what was going on. Murdock slapped him lightly on the cheek in reproach, and Face shivered. He felt a tug on his other wrist and pulled at them experimentally. They were restrained but there was no bite.

As Murdock settled back, sitting on his thighs, Face looked at his friend. "Leather cuffs?"

The pilot grinned. "Couldn't tear up your delicate skin with the big boy ones, could I?"

The teasing tone brought some of Face's blood back to his brain, and he hazily remembered the conversation that had resulted in him being dragged into this room. A stab of disappointment caused Face's gut to clench slightly but he pushed it aside. He'd been cockteased by much prettier people, he assured himself, and one more night of solo action wasn't going to kill him. He kind of deserved it for being a dick, no matter how well-intended his comments were.

"Alright, you got me," he sighed, forcing a smooth smirk onto his face. "I concede: You know about sex. You don't need any help from me. You da man."

But Murdock was still straddling his legs, arching his back as he pulled off his cartoon t-shirt to reveal a muscled, scarred, Ranger's torso. It was easy to forget that Murdock wasn't fifteen sometimes, with his slender frame, baseball cap, cartoons and oh god. Murdock had cupped Face's erection through his jeans and _squeezed_, not too hard. Not nearly too hard.

Face whined. Murdock giggled (_asshole_) and squeezed again.

"Aw, Facey," he drawled, leaning in close. "I'm nowhere _near_ done showing you what I know."


	2. Chapter 2

NOTE: I have written the sex scene between Face and Murdock. It's archived at my LJ: You can find the link on my FFN profile page.

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><p>The next morning, Face was aware of several things as soon as he awoke. His stomach and head told him to be careful and warned that if he moved too suddenly, there could be problems. His body felt sore, sated and somehow empty. There was something in the back of his mind, something like a dream that could be good or terrible. Something that had a lot of different emotions attached to it, that he wasn't sure if he wanted to remember…<p>

Oh. Right. That.

Face opened his eyes, blinking at the ceiling. Pale golden light was coming in through a crack in the curtains. Someone was moving around in the kitchen. Birds were singing.

Nrrrrg. New day. Face didn't want a new day. He wanted to go back to sleep, maybe for several weeks. By then, this hangover should be gone and so would the fallout from whateverthefuck that was last night.

Face groaned and rolled onto his side, curling up like making himself smaller might make the world go away. What had happened last night? Well, he knew what had happened. It was coming back to him with embarrassing detail. Had he _begged_? Oh god. That was so unmanly. Had Murdock laughed at him? No, no, he'd just been giggling in general… And he'd said Face was… gorgeous? Beautiful? Something complimentary anyway. That was good – Face wasn't the only one who'd been in the moment, then.

He'd definitely been the only one begging, though. God. This was pretty mortifying.

Face sighed and buried his nose deeper into his pillow. _Go away, world_. He wasn't sure who to be angry at. Himself, for such a wanton display? Murdock, for initiating it and wringing those sounds and reactions from him? It was _good_… It had been good sex. Great sex. Mindblowing, phenomenal, best-he-could-remember-in-ever sex…

What was the question?

But still. Face wasn't usually ashamed of his urges or responses during sex. But this was different. This was with _Murdock_. He didn't want Murdock to think he was all needy and lame in bed. He had an image to maintain! Dammit. Face was blaming the alcohol for this one. He was usually much cooler during sex. This was just a fluke. He'd been caught off guard.

Not that being caught had been so terrible…

Ugh.

Eventually, Face decided that tossing and turning around the bed wasn't going to make the situation go away. And his blood sugar was screaming at him for nourishment. He wanted pizza. And curry. He wanted curry on pizza. With eggs. And those things didn't exist in his bed.

Okay. Time to get up.

As Face pushed himself up, groaning as his head throbbed from the movement, he felt a residual jolt of pleasure through his lower body. His balls tingled.

_Not now, body_, he told himself wearily. _Currypizzaeggs first. Then everything else._

When Face shuffled gingerly into the kitchen, he found Murdock already at the stove, wearing last night's jeans and a clean t-shirt, humming something to himself. How could he be so jolly? Face's eyes squinted against the light and the display of energy. He was never going to feel jolly again.

He must have emitted a groan of protest at being awake/alive, because Murdock turned. For a second the pilot froze, like a mouse caught in a trap. Then he unleashed his usual manic grin. "Mornin', Faceman. You look like I feel."

Face couldn't even muster his usual glib replies. "You must feel attractive then, or something," he tried half-heartedly, beelining for the table and slumping down with his head on his arms.

"Okay, let's go with that," Murdock allowed, chuckling lightly at his friend's misery. "Here." Face heard movement and something was placed on the table next to him.

Face kept his head down and eyes shut. "Unless that's aspirin or curry pizza, I'm not moving."

"Better. Hospital-grade painkillers. Still got a few left from the last time I broke a rib."

That was acceptable. Face raised his head slowly and dry swallowed two pills. "Wondered how you could be so cheery."

Murdock was back to poking at his breakfast on the stove. Something to do with bacon and eggs, if Face's nostrils were right. "I'm not cheery. It's an elaborate ruse. I think after this breakfast I'll be more than fifty percent alive though. You want in?"

"Oh god yes."

Okay, this was good. Face hauled himself to his feet and turned on the electric kettle. (They only had instant coffee, but he wasn't about to complain today.) Normal, hungover, what-did-we-drink-last-night conversation. All good. The silence right now wasn't even uncomfortable. The eggs and bacon crackled, Murdock had gone back to humming… Everything was fine. This wasn't such a big deal.

Murdock caught him staring. Had he been staring? Whoops. The Captain gave Face a small smile. He hadn't shaved yet. The stubble suited him. "It was bound to happen eventually."

_Eggs?_ Face nearly said, but caught himself just in time. Ah. Yeah. So, okay. They _were_ talking about it.

To his credit, Face didn't flush. Much. "You know, until last night, I never would have thought that." He took a couple of mugs out of the cupboard. "What _was_ that, anyway?"

Murdock, bless his heart, didn't tease him. "When I prove a point, I prove a point," he replied casually, turning down the heat on his eggs. "You know me – nothing by halves." He sounded so blasé. He flipped the bacon, holding the spatula in the same hand that had been inside Face not six hours ago.

"Yeah." Face leaned against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. "There was definitely nothing 'half' about that." They caught each other's eyes and giggled a bit.

"So, it's all good?" asked Murdock, still sounding so damn unaffected. "I mean, I didn't go too far and make it all weird, did I?" He grinned, an infuriatingly sexy half-smile that caused Face's cock to twitch. That had never happened before. Murdock must have switched smiles on him. Jerk. "You still respect me in the morning, right?"

Face should have been grateful for the out. He should have been so happy that things weren't strange and that he'd just had amazing, seemingly consequence-free sex without ruining a great friendship. But Face had always been a bit of a greedy creature and he hadn't made a habit of denying himself the pleasurable things in life.

So in response to Murdock's light jibe, Face said, "We should do it again."

Murdock, having known Face for so long, didn't react with surprise. But he did look wary. "What," he said flatly, shoulders tensing slightly.

The kettle clicked off as the water reached optimum coffee-making temperature, but Face ignored it. He stepped forward. Now that he thought about it, his mouth made a good point. He felt a surge of positivity for the first time that day – though that might have been the drugs.

"We should do it again," he repeated, the idea gaining momentum in his mind. "I mean, you said yourself, things aren't weird or anything." Murdock turned off the stove without taking his eyes off Face. "It's you and me! And it was, wow. It was really good. I mean, really. Right?"

Murdock was still gripping the spatula tightly. His eyes flicked around the room. "Yeah, it was good…"

Face cut him off before he could say the "but" that Face could hear in his tone. "Yeah! See? It just makes sense! It was good – really good – and we're friends, and it didn't wreck anything, so we should do it again." He took another step forward.

Murdock whipped the spatula up, pointing it at Face like a sword to prevent him from coming any closer. "Face." He said it clearly and slowly, like he was talking to a dog. "No. _No_. Don't make this weird. It was one night, it was very nice, let's just leave it at that. We'll always have The Middle Of Deliverance Nowhere, okay? That's enough."

Face shook his head stubbornly. It didn't hurt, yay! Those drugs were definitely kicking in. "Come on, man, just listen."

Murdock wasn't lowering the spatula. His eyes were large and almost frightened. "No. Stop it."

"It doesn't have to be a big thing. I just think we should keep our options open. Keep it on the table."

Murdock stepped back. "I'm not just a piece of meat."

Face stepped forward. "I'm not saying that! I just don't see why we shouldn't at least acknowledge the _possibility_…"

"I need an adult!" Murdock raised his voice to an almost panicked pitch without taking his eyes off Face.

Face grabbed the spatula, trying to get a grip on the slippery utensil. "Would you- Stop it, you're flicking grease all over me."

"No. You stop it! Get away!"

"Murdock…"

"Help!"

"Boys." A low, gravelly, decidedly unimpressed voice cut through the melee. Both men instantly stood to attention, years of Army training triggering muscle memories before they realised what was happening.

Hannibal stood in the doorway in boxers and a plain tee, arms crossed, hair messed. His eyes were slits and he looked as unhappy as Face had felt all those – he glanced at the clock – ten minutes ago.

Both younger men opened their mouths to speak. Hannibal held up a hand. Their mouths snapped shut.

"Aspirin," was all their Colonel said.

Murdock dutifully grabbed the bottle from the table and passed it over.

Hannibal crammed an indefinite amount of pills into his mouth, dry-swallowing like a pro. He took a deep breath. "Boys," he said again. They listened attentively. "Shut up."

"But, sir…"

Hannibal raised his hand again. "Shush." He pointed to Face. "You. Stop molesting teammates." Pointed to Murdock. "You. Unleashed the beast. Your fault. You deal with it."

Murdock flushed and automatically protested. "Hannibal, I didn't…"

"Shush." Hannibal's eyes were still nearly entirely closed. "Don't care. Yell at you later. Right now, too much noise. Shut up."

They nodded, mouths sealed shut obediently. Hannibal grunted and staggered back towards his bedroom, taking the painkillers with him.

After he left, Murdock and Face looked at each other awkwardly. Face was beginning to think he might have made a mistake.

"So," said Murdock finally, fiddling with the spatula. "Eggs?"


	3. Chapter 3

Breakfast was both more and less awkward than Face expected. Less, because Murdock promptly flipped through his mental Rolodex and donned the (figurative, this time) hat of one of his many personas. This one was from New Zealand. Face absently noted the skill it took to mimic the accent so well, especially with a mouth full of bacon.

That, of course, led to thoughts about how talented Murdock's tongue was in other areas. Face covered his flush with a feigned coughing fit, but Ikaroa (as Murdock was insisting on being addressed) took no notice and simply continued his animated discussion with his reflection in the back of his spoon. Why they were speaking Russian, Face didn't question.

He was just happy that his needy, borderline-rapey conversation with Murdock had been cut off. It hadn't sounded so creepy in his head! Something about this situation kept putting Face on the back foot, and he didn't like it. He was supposed to be the smooth one – he WAS the smooth one! – but this was going all wrong. It was backwards. And stupid, because Murdock was being a real prude about this, and if he was going to do that, he probably should have started before he put his fingers up Face's-

A deep, annoyed grunt came from the doorway. Thinking that Hannibal had taken issue with the animated way Ikaroa was explaining what sounded to Face like the plot of _The Facts Of Life_ (his Russian was a bit rusty) to his spoon, the blond swivelled in his chair. Nope. It was BA.

That's when things got awkward again.

BA was glaring loudly, and yes, he could do that. It was one of his superpowers. He was clad in the same clothes as last night and had clearly just rolled out of bed. The wrong side, too, by the look of it. His vibes of hostility and unhappiness were so strong that even Ikaroa fled, leaving Murdock to fend for himself. Face could tell by the shift in his friend's posture and abrupt ceasing of babushka babble. And if a Maori warrior couldn't handle it…

"Good mornin', Bosco!" chirped Murdock. His chipper attitude only seemed to feed BA's rage. This could not come to good.

"I ain't talking to you two," grumped BA as he stomped over to the fridge. Face noted that he wasn't beating them to death with his fists, which was a good sign.

"Aw, why not?" asked Murdock, not put off in the slightest. "It is because we didn't save you eggs? I can make more! I'll even put blueberries in them."

BA ignored him, which was probably for the best. "All damn night," he said instead, gulping milk straight from the carton. "That just ain't cool. I don't wanna hear that shit. You got no respect for me, for Hannibal, for yourselves… You two are disgusting, you know that." He shook his head and took another swig.

Face tensed. He was pretty sure that BA had known, before last night, that Face… something something metaphor for having sex with both men and women (his brain still wasn't on fire yet), but Face had always respected the team's sensibilities and never engaged in that kind of activity around them. Maybe BA had been harbouring strong opinions on the matter this whole time, and just hadn't had an excuse to air them? This could get ugly.

Beside him, Murdock seemed to be coming to the same conclusion. Remarkably, the normally manic pilot didn't say anything, but he looked away from BA and started twirling his spoon like a baton. Classic Murdock nervous fiddling. Face felt a wave of protectiveness. BA could say what he wanted about Face, but if he said anything that hurt Murdock then Face was gonna be over there so fast that BA could have two black eyes before he'd even-

"Aw, cut it out." BA let out a frustrated sigh. "Stop looking so hang-dog, both of you. You know I didn't mean it like that." He busied himself making toast, not looking at his teammates as their postures relaxed. "Don't think you can turn this around and be the victims. You ain't the ones who had to listen to all that god-awful, loud, ridiculous jibber-jabber comin' out your mouths, shit, I don't need to hear that… Hey! It ain't funny."

Face and Murdock respectfully disagreed, and were collapsed over their half-eaten breakfasts in paroxysms of laughter.

"Did…" Murdock could hardly speak. "Did you just say 'jibber-jabber'?"

They nearly fell off their chairs in hysterics.

BA crossed his arms and glared, very put out that they weren't as apologetic and fearful as he thought they should be.

"You are…" Face choked on his own breath. "Ack! Hahaha! You are, like, the LEAST threatening person…" He pounded the table with his fists when his body couldn't find an outlet for all the mirth.

"Hi, I'm Bosco," Murdock growled in a deep and borderline-offensive imitation. "I'm from da hood, where we be sellin' crack and talkin' all kinds of jibber-jabber." His voice broke on the last syllable and he shook the table with his spasms.

"That ain't funny," BA informed him with a death stare that had no impact whatsoever.

Two voices answered him at the same time.

"It really is."

"I have to disagree."

And then the laughing continued.

BA's toast popped up. He smeared some peanut butter on it and grabbed a plate. Snagging the milk from the fridge, he left the kitchen and headed for the relative safety of his own room. Damn idiots, couldn't talk to them about anything.

On his way down the hall, BA passed a disgruntled looking Hannibal, who nodded at him curtly before continuing his purposeful stride towards the kitchen. BA giggled to himself. Fools were in for it now.

As soon as Hannibal appeared in the doorway once again, Face and Murdock's cackling stilled. A hush fell over the kitchen. Sweat prickled at Murdock's forehead. Face shifted uneasily in his chair. A tumbleweed rolled past. Wait. Tumbleweed? Face risked looking away from Hannibal's Intense Glare to take another look. Yep, that was a ball of hair. Ew! This house was so gross. Next time he was going to scam a place owned by people with better hygiene.

Hannibal cleared his throat. Face snapped his attention back to the Colonel. Dammit. That was going to cost him points, he just knew it.

But Hannibal's most stern, intimidating, I'm-not-mad-I'm-just-disappointed (except everyone knew he really WAS mad), Colonel-y stare was, for once, not directed at Face. The conman blinked. That had to be a first. Ha! Also: Oh shit.

"I'm just, gonna," Face made a vague gesture with his hands, even though neither of the other men in the room was looking at him, "…Away." Ducking his head so he wouldn't be decapitated by the lasers shooting from Hannibal's eyes, he all but ran from the room.

Hannibal took a seat in the hastily-vacated chair. He crossed his arms and continued to stare at Murdock.

The pilot scratched the table with his fork. "Want some coffee, Hannibal?" he offered hopefully.

Hannibal said nothing.

Murdock was an optimist. "Eggs? I have bacon too."

Still nothing.

Then, after several tense seconds, a long, drawn out sigh.

Murdock ducked his head, fiddling with the fork. This was excruciating. But he knew he had to wait for Hannibal to start. He bounced his left leg distractedly, nervous energy needing an out. Why did he have to give Hannibal those painkillers? Normal aspirin would have taken at least five times this long to work.

Finally, after making him wait so long that Murdock was _positive_ it was part of Hannibal's punishment, the older man rubbed a hand over his face. "You know we have to talk about this."

Murdock nodded vigorously. "Yes sir."

"You know I don't want to."

Murdock bit his lip. "I imagine not, sir."

Hannibal sighed again. "Son…"

Murdock tensed. Uh oh. Hannibal in heart-to-heart mode was something to be approached very, very warily. Like a pre-menstrual hyena, except hyenas didn't menstruate; pigs were the ones that were meant to do that, but Murdock used to live on a farm and he'd never seen it.

Hannibal was still talking. "For obvious reasons, there are rules against this sort of thing in the Army." Murdock's fork gauged a line in the faux-wood of the table top. Hannibal, seeing the reaction, clarified himself quickly. "Fraternization among teammates, I mean, not. Well." He cleared his throat. "Of course they have rules about that too, but that's not what I'm here to discuss."

Murdock put down his fork. He didn't want to ruin these nice strangers' furniture.

Hannibal's expression softened. "Captain, I'm not here to lecture you, not about… that. I want you to always feel free to talk to me about… things… if you ever need to." He cleared his throat again, possibly over the sound of horrified screaming that had suddenly erupted in Murdock's head. The day he sat down with Hannibal and started talking about "boy problems"… Murdock shook his head slightly. If the screaming got any louder, he was pretty sure his ears would start bleeding.

"Thank you, sir," he managed. "I appreciate that." And he did. The offer was nice, even if the thought of following through with it was horrifying.

Hannibal seemed to agree, because he didn't press the matter. "Right." He paused. "But, Murdock, I need to know that you understand how important it is that the four of us maintain our ability to work and live together, as a fellowship and a team above all else, right now. With the MPs on our tail and our pictures on the news every second day, we can't afford to have discord rattling us from within. We're the best, but we're only going to stay the best if we focus and keep ourselves sharp. We can't afford distractions. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Murdock nodded again. "Yes, sir. I, uh. Last night wasn't a _planned_ distraction."

He could swear that Hannibal was blushing. "Yes, well. Be that as it may. I hope you know that it can't happen again."

It wasn't helpful or conducive to an easy resolution to this conversation, but Murdock's hackles couldn't help but rise a bit at that. He understood where Hannibal was coming from, of course, but ultimately they were grown men. Didn't Hannibal trust him to always look out for the team? Wasn't that what Murdock had been doing for the last nine years? Unlike Face, his personal relationships (such as they were) had never interfered with team business, officially or unofficially. Not once. Did Hannibal think that that was a fluke, or did he just assume that the crazy pilot never got laid, like Face had before this whole mess started last night?

"With all due respect, sir," the crazy pilot in question replied, "I don't think it's within your jurisdiction, as Colonel or as anything else you might be to us, to dictate who we can and can't interact with in our personal lives. In any capacity."

The lines around Hannibal's mouth deepened. Murdock hastened to continue. He really didn't want this to turn into a shit-fight. "I mean it, Hannibal – I'm not trying to disrespect you. I just want _you_ to respect that I can make my own judgement calls about that part of my life. Been doing it this long."

Hannibal held Murdock's gaze as the implications of that last sentence settled into the air around them. Finally, he spoke. "I know you have, Murdock, and I'm not questioning your commitment to our team or ability to make decisions." Hannibal knew that it chafed Murdock to be constantly, consistently doubted in his military ability by people who couldn't understand that sure, he was crazy, but he wasn't _CRAZY_. Not where it counted. "This isn't just anyone, though. This is Face."

Murdock ducked his head a bit and nodded. "I know, sir. He's a teammate, and I should never have-"

"Not just that," Hannibal cut in. Murdock straightened, confused. "It's _Face_." Hannibal's eyes were steel, staring through Murdock with remorseless warning. "You know what happened last time."

At first, Murdock didn't understand what Hannibal meant. Then: Of course. The last time Face had been with someone he cared about, really and truly, it had been Sosa.

Murdock raised his chin, meeting Hannibal's stare unflinchingly. "I know, sir. I would never let something like that happen again."

Hannibal seemed satisfied with that, and with what he could see in Murdock's eyes (hell, Murdock himself didn't know what he was feeling right now, so if Hannibal could decipher it then he deserved a gold cigar). The Colonel nodded, once. "Good." He stood up, clapping Murdock on the back hard enough to nearly throw the slighter man off his chair. "Don't make me have to talk to you about this again."

Murdock definitely wouldn't, not if he could help it. "No, sir." Thank god that was over.

Now Murdock just had to deal with Face.

No problem.


	4. Chapter 4

Face tensed as he heard footsteps approaching his door. He was feeling much better, thanks to painkillers and eggs, but being able to move your eyes without wanting to die and being up for one of Hannibal's Talks were completely different kettles of fish. One wasn't even a kettle of fish: It was a kettle of... Wait, the Hannibal talk was the fish one, because fish stink and no one likes being around a seafood market, and the other was, like, a kettle of... pie, or something?

See, this was why he wasn't up for a conversation with the Colonel. He'd need at least two functioning braincells and his were too tied up reminding him to be embarrassed and/or horny at any given moment to do anything else. At times like this, Face thought he could understand how Murdock felt when his brain wouldn't do what he wanted it to. Scary.

As Face was having his mental crisis, the footsteps faded away. So Hannibal wasn't going to talk to him. Not yet anyway. That could be a bad thing in the long run – if Hannibal was simmering, who knew what he'd come out with when he finally unleashed? – but at least it was a problem Future Face would have to handle. Present Face sighed in relief.

Then started violently at a knock on his door.

"Face? Can I come in?"

Murdock. Damn him and his light footfalls!

"Yeah, sure, buddy," the conman replied, hastily straightening his doona and wishing he'd thought to take the time to dress himself in something better than his sleepwear-

Wait, was he preening? For _Murdock_?

Fuck that. As the door swung open, Face yanked the bedcovers into disarray again.

Murdock closed the door behind him, eying Face warily as the sheets settled back onto the bed. (Face's yank had been quite hard. Army strong!)

"Uh, is this a bad time?"

Face shook his head. "No, no, it's fine." He hated this feeling. It's how he'd imagine he would have felt around girls as a teenager, had he not spent his teen years being effortlessly cool and sexing every attractive person he wanted from the time he was 14. Stupid late-onset awkwardness.

"Good." Murdock hesitated before sitting next to Face on the bed. _Well, yeah_, thought Face. The ship of "personal space" between them had well and truly sailed, even before last night.

Face's stomach sank as a thought occurred to him. "Did Hannibal tell you to talk to me?"

"What?" Murdock seemed genuinely surprised by the question. "Oh! No. No. No no. He, uh." Murdock ran a hand through his hair. "No."

Face raised an eyebrow. Murdock could be the worst secret-keeper in the world. Especially when he didn't want to keep the secret. "What _did_ he say?" the blond prompted.

As predicted, Murdock sighed and relented instantly. "He said that I could always go to him if I needed someone to talk to." Face shuddered. "Yeah. He was more concerned about the fact that we're teammates than the Phillip Morris aspect of the whole thing."

It took Face a second to get the reference. "I would have just said, 'The amount of cocks,' but sure."

Murdock let out a short laugh. "But how do you know how many is TOO many?"

Face didn't pause. "Depends on the kind of broth you wanna make."

"Oh god. That's bad, Faceman."

"It's bad, but it can be oh-so right." Face reddened a bit. He'd meant that as a snappy line, but it had come out all wrong. The delivery was off and it sounded… kinda gay. "So, uh, the talk was okay then? I don't need to wrap my belongings in a rag tied to a stick and run away from home?"

Murdock giggled. "Your stuff wouldn't fit in a rag on a stick."

Face could see where this was going. Ha ha, he had a lot of bathroom products, ha ha. "Yeah, very funny…"

Murdock refused to be headed off at the pass. "You'd be like, 'Oh I need THIS jacket for the summertime, and THIS one for the evenings, and what if it gets a bit chilly? I'll need THIS cardigan-'"

"I don't wear cardigans!"

"'…and THIS pair of cufflinks, ooh and this cravat, and how many ascots is enough ascots?'"

"WHAT? Shut up."

"'And maybe I should take BOTH pairs of Edward Greens because the brown ones are less formal…'"

"Brown isn't always less- Shut up."

"I'm just saying-"

"No!"

"-you have a lot of stuff."

"Yeah, thanks, I got that."

"No problem."

Face sighed and resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. For many reasons, that wouldn't be an appropriate course of action. "My hilarious possessions aside-"

"They are hilarious."

"Shut up. That aside, it's all good with Hannibal?"

Murdock's smile fell slightly. He looked away. "Uh, yeah." He scratched the back of his neck and laughed. It wasn't a real laugh. "Uh, he was. Don't tell him I told you this, okay? But I think the he was kind of in protective father mode."

Face was stunned. And stung. He didn't really know what to say. "That's… Okay." He ignored the sudden nausea that washed over him. He asked for it, really. After all, he did sleep around, and he joked about it just as much as anyone else. But for Hannibal to think that he'd treat his best friend like that… Face breathed hard through his nose, trying to quell the flurry of emotions that were trying to rise up. He thought Hannibal knew him better than that. He thought Hannibal thought better of him. "I deserve that, I guess. Did you… What did you tell him?"

Murdock blinked. And stared. "Face, he wasn't protective of _me_." The "you clueless idiot" wasn't spoken, but it was heavily implied by the Southerner's tone. "He was making sure _you_ were okay."

Face took his own turn at blinking and staring. "Oh. But. Why?"

Murdock looked at him with a kind of cautious pity. Only the clear affection in his eyes stopped Face from being offended. "He saw who dragged who out of that room, Faceman. Ain't a question about whose great idea it was."

Face only just stopped himself from saying something mortifying and corny like, "It was an _incredible_ idea." Best to survey the lay of the land before verbally offering himself on a silver platter again.

Murdock continued. "And, well, we all know what you're like, Face. You keep things casual. You don't shit where you eat." It was a diplomatic (generous, even) way to phrase it. "I think Hannibal was worried that I'd overstepped your boundaries, you know. Friend, teammate, sex thing."

"Tiger?" Face couldn't help offering. Murdock just shrugged, his crooked smile far too tense and small. "You didn't- Everything that happened was consensual, Murdock. Especially after this morning, I can't believe I'm even clarifying that."

"I know," Murdock assured him. "Hannibal did have a point though. I didn't think about what I was doing and it could have really fucked things up. He's right about that. I shouldn't have risked it. It was impulsive." His eyes were wide and earnest.

Face was, once again, flabbergasted. "Are you _apologising_ to me for dragging me into your bedroom and fucking my brains out?"

There was a thunderous bang on the adjoining wall between his and BA's rooms. Oops. Too loud. Sorry, BA.

He lowered his voice. "Seriously. What the fuck? What horrible Opposite World have I woken up in? You don't apologise for awesome sex." He struggled very hard to not shout that last part.

Murdock twitched a bit. "No, I'm… It was a pretty stupid thing to do."

Face wasn't getting this at all. "Because we're teammates? Fuck that. We both enjoyed it, right?" Murdock nodded. "How's enjoying something together meant to wreck our friendship?"

Murdock smiled a bit. "I think it's a bit more complicated than that, for most people."

Face frowned. "Is that what it's about? I sleep around so I must not understand the possible fallout from sex with someone you've met more than once?" He was getting loud again, but couldn't give a shit. "I just hump everything I see and I don't understand basic human emotions?"

Murdock looked distressed. "No, Face. No! None of us would ever say that." He took Face's hands in his own. "Please don't think that. Hannibal was just worried, and then I got worried, because sex CAN fuck things up. Everyone's got their own baggage and expectations… I mean, look at this morning. We obviously had different ideas about what it was going to be…"

Wait, so now Face was the chick? He pulled his hands away, glaring. "I don't get it. Am I a shallow playboy who just pumps and leaves or am I a lovesick idiot?" He knew he was being dramatic, but he was offended and didn't care.

"Face, _please_," Murdock begged, frustrated and upset. "That's not what I'm saying. There was the potential for one, or BOTH, of us to get hurt in this. Or just make everything uncomfortable and fuck things up. This conversation wouldn't be happening for one thing, and this conversation _sucks_."

He put so much emotion into the word that Face couldn't help but lower his defences slightly. "Why _are_ we having this conversation?"

"Well, I wanted to-"

"You don't need to apologise. _I'm_ sorry for chasing you around with my boner this morning."

"That's okay. You've done worse."

"Yes I have. That's the point. So. We're clear? We both enjoyed last night and we're still friends?"

Murdock nodded. "Yeah."

"You're not gonna flake out on our next mission because you're thinking about my sexy abs?"

"Tempting, but no." Murdock's voice was teasing, but not sarcastic. "You not gonna do a slow-mo dive in front of me at a stupid moment because I am your lover?" He pronounced the last word "luffer" in an accent Face couldn't pick.

"I've already jumped in front of a bullet for you," Face pointed out.

"It wasn't in slow-mo," argued Murdock. "And you didn't scream my name, or, "Noooooo!' when you did it."

"What, so it doesn't count?"

"Motivation was different."

Face sighed. "Fine. I promise that any time I save you from dying, it'll be strictly as a friend and teammate and nothing to do with your amazing cock."

Murdock turned red faster than Face would have thought humanly possible. "Ah. Yeah, okay. That works."

"Hey, sorry." Face didn't want things going weird again. "I'll stop joking about it." He watched Murdock carefully. "Do you want to just pretend it didn't happen?" There was no rancour in his tone. If that's what Murdock wanted, he'd respect that.

Murdock scratched at his arm and didn't meet Face's eyes. "No…" He sounded unsure. "I don't know, Faceman. What do you want?"

"You know what I want," Face answered simply, honestly. He'd told Murdock that this morning.

"No, but," Murdock looked around the room as though the walls would tell him what to say. "What would that be? Like, an arrangement? Would we just be each other's port in a storm in small towns, or would we… I don't know." He broke off, looking annoyed, and scratched his arm again.

"I don't know what you want me to say, man," answered Face carefully. "I can't say what it would be yet. It was really good. I'd love to do it again, but not if it screws up anything between us."

"I just." Murdock's eyes were horribly vulnerable. "I wouldn't like either of us to be hurt."

"You think you would hurt me?" Face drew a gentle line down Murdock's cheek with his knuckle, encouraging the other man to look at him. "Or that I'd hurt you?"

Murdock gave a slight shrug. "Both, I guess."

"Why would I get hurt?" Sometimes Murdock responded best to direct, solid questions. Probably a by-product of countless psychiatric interviews.

Murdock squirmed a bit. Face stroked his hand lightly – permission to speak freely (and possibly offend). Face was a big boy. He could take it.

"I don't want you to feel rejected," Murdock finally blurted. "You're such a good person, and you've had that too much. If this doesn't work out, or I don't, or something happens. I don't want you to go through that shit again." He turned his hand, gripping Face's fingers firmly.

Face shook his head, genuinely bewildered. "You could never hurt me." Murdock scoffed. "No, I mean it. You wouldn't let that happen. Whatever else happens, you wouldn't. I trust you. And I mean, it's not like we'd be _dating_."

Murdock gave Face a look that the blond was sure he was supposed to understand. "Faceman, come on. We're already kind of dating."

Face's mouth fell open. "No we're not!" he spluttered.

"Sorry, Face, but it's true. Look at us. We're talking about our feelings, holding hands."

Face tried to pull his fingers out of Murdock's grasp. "That's – ow, let go! – that's circumstantial evidence."

Murdock clung on. "We eat together, live together, work together, go out together, sometimes shower together…"

"Alright, alright! Point taken." Face looked down. Somehow Murdock had entwined their hands so their fingers were interlocking. "Oh, fuck you. Fine. Alright, boyfriend. Why would _you_ get hurt?"

The mirth slipped from Murdock's face a little. "Oh. Um. Okay." Now it was Face who wouldn't let go. "Well, you know how you are, Faceman. One smile from you and anyone's heart would start to flutter. I don't know if I've got enough tinfoil to make armour against that." He gave an embarrassed, apologetic smile. "I can do a casual fuck, don't get me wrong. But, I think, not with you. You're my best friend, Face. I already love you more than I love salt 'n' vinegar chips. I think if I let myself feel more, well. It just wouldn't be good for me."

Face felt so stupid. So very, very stupid. "You've thought about this before, haven't you?"

That look of rueful apology again. "A bit, yeah."

Face didn't think about what he did next. Which was obvious, because it wasn't necessarily the most tactful thing to do under the circumstances. He leaned forward and put a soft, chaste kiss on Murdock's lips.

It only lasted for a few seconds before they both pulled back. Murdock didn't look angry, which was good.

Face bit back on the urge to apologise. That would get them nowhere. Instead he looked his friend in the eye, fingers still entwined. "I love you, Murdock. Not just because you love me." That earned a small smile, at least. "I didn't know."

Murdock shook his head. "No no, it's not like that. I haven't been pining away for you or anything. No offense."

"None taken."

"Maybe the odd shower fantasy or two..."

"Seriously?" Face was flooded with relief. "Thank god. I thought I was the only one." He looked at his best friend and felt a surge of pure affection. "Murdock, I think, if this isn't too lame to say, I think we can make this work. Look at us. Less than twelve hours after absolutely mind-blowing sex, we're hashing out all the issues that arose from said mind-blowing sex. We are, like, the kings of open communication. If it fucks up, it fucks up. We'll make sure we don't hurt the team, or our friendship."

"You can't promise that, Face. And I think this was exactly what Hannibal was talking about NOT doing for the sake of the team."

"Hannibal can't tell me who to fuck."

"That's pretty much what I said."

"See? We're perfect for each other!" At Murdock's laugh, Face continued, encouraged. "Murdock, I know it's weird and sudden and definitely the backwards way of doing things, but I want to try this. I do. I think that's why it feels right, because there's no one else I'd consider doing this with."

"Faceman, that's easy to say when we're in the middle of Assfuck Nowhere." He paused. They both giggled. "You know what I mean. What about when we're in the big cities again and there's 36-24-36s as far as the eye can see?"

"I don't want them," stated Face stubbornly. "I want you."

"Since yesterday."

"Yesterday was when I learned that I could get my best friend AND incredible sex at the same time. What could those 36s possibly offer against that?"

"I'll be sleepy sometimes," countered Murdock. "It won't just be jizzing all over the place all the time."

Face shrugged. "So? I'll jerk off. I know what a relationship is, you know. I have been in them before."

Murdock eyed Face with a challenging look in his eye that sent shivers down the conman's spine. "Okay. So. This really what you want to do?"

Face nodded.

"Test drive first?" suggested Murdock. "Three week trial, see how we go?"

"Sounds good."

"Alright then."

They shook on it.

Face laughed in relief. "Finally!" He shoved Murdock unceremoniously onto the mattress. Grinning wolfishly, he crawled up the pilot's body. "Now that we're official and everything. My turn."


	5. Chapter 5

NOTES: Again, I have written the sex scene that occurred between the last chapter and this one. The link is on my FFN profile (_Prove It – Racy Scene 2_).

* * *

><p>The moment Face and Murdock entered the living room, they were accosted by a furious BA. Before either could react, he punched them both in the arm. Hard.<p>

"Owwww!" Their noises of complaint almost harmonised. From an armchair, Hannibal watched the whole thing wearily. Couldn't the children play outside for once?

"What?" demanded Face in outrage, rubbing his arm. "What was that for?"

"You!" BA pointed angrily, fists still looking too ready to strike for Murdock's liking. He knew BA's warning signs best after all, being the one who provoked them the most. "Again! Noises! Goddamn." He let out a roar of frustration to the ceiling. "Stop it! Stop _doing that_!"

He sounded so upset that Murdock couldn't help it. He giggled. (His responses to BA's various large emotions were rarely helpful.) "Aw, Bosco, I'm sorry. Did you feel left out?"

"Don't." BA glared at him warningly. "Don't even, crazy. This ain't the time." He turned to their leader. "Hannibal, tell them they can't do this no more!"

The boys looked at Hannibal expectantly. He sighed. It was clear that various pheromones he didn't want to think too strongly about were still running merrily through his Captain and Lieutenant's bloodstreams. Nothing he said would make an impact at this point. They were practically giddy.

"Gentlemen," Hannibal said. He closed his eyes and asked for strength. "Why?"

Face and Murdock looked at each other, pondering the question. Hannibal could mean a lot of things. Why again, after the Colonel had expressed his disapproval? Why in the middle of the day? Why so loud, banging the bed against BA's shared wall? Why could be a lot of things.

Murdock's answer, though, probably wasn't what Hannibal was expecting no matter what he'd meant. The pilot beamed, the hint of cheekiness only visible to the team because they knew what a devious brat he could be sometimes.

"We're boyfriends," he announced happily. "We had to celebrate."

"Consummate," corrected Face, slipping his hand into Murdock's because he knew it would piss BA off. "We had to consummate the relationship."

Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Seriously?" groaned the dark man, looking like he couldn't figure out what sin he was paying for. "You… Aw, no. No. No. This ain't happening. You two aren't- You're fucking with me."

"Sorry BA." Face shook his head. "If it makes you feel better, we'll try to be quiet."

"Try to… You shouldn't be doin' that in the first place! HANNIBAL!"

Hannibal settled back in his chair, turning his attention back to his book and tuning out the melee. No one was going to say anything rational for a while. Face and Murdock looked… happy. Alright then. BA was making a lot of noise, but he did that all the time. If he was really upset, he'd be quiet and fuming. This would blow over.

"Come on, BA, hug me. You don't have to be scared of cooties. I'll show you. Hug me."

"No! Get away, fool! Hannibal!"

"Aw, don't be like that. Hug me. Come on. Everything's gonna be okay."

"Get off me, crazy! Don't touch me."

"Just a little one. A huglette."

"Just the tip, just to see if you like it."

"Face, that's not helping."

"Heh heh!"

"Aw man. This what it's gonna be like? You two, all the time? Back off, Crazy. Hannibal! HANNIBAL!"

Well. It _would_ blow over. Hannibal just had to get some earplugs in the meantime.


End file.
